


Burgundy Strands

by toastedtofu



Series: A Number of Domestic Interactions [1]
Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Can be read platonically but Togashi would be disappointed, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, I stole that tag from someone else, Killua's internally monologuing the entire time, M/M, Short & Sweet, That's it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 06:01:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26847085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toastedtofu/pseuds/toastedtofu
Summary: Killua, unaccustomed to such foreign pleasures, does not know how to cuddle.In other words...You know that one scene in hxh99 when Mito pats Gon's tummy until he falls asleep? Yeah.
Relationships: Gon Freecs/Killua Zoldyck
Series: A Number of Domestic Interactions [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1961593
Comments: 8
Kudos: 114





	Burgundy Strands

**Author's Note:**

> Here I go terrorizing people with my killugon brainrot, again. I haven't proof read a darn thing and won't. Self-indulgent idk.
> 
> There are mentions of violence toward the end, there.

Killua, unaccustomed to such foreign pleasures, does not know how to cuddle.

It happens on a lazy Saturday, the sun slowly making its descent across another cloudless sky. They’d opted to stay inside for the day, taking shelter from the merciless humidity that overtook whale Island following the rainy season. If you weren’t careful, you might very well take a sip of air. So, of course, the boys hid from the unrelenting heat, gnawing on popsicles and playing a game Killua had never heard of before which involved many pieces and rules-- some of which, Gon couldn't remember the initial purpose of. Their competitive edge sustained the game for much longer than necessary before the two realized they didn’t actually know what they were aiming for. Then, the pieces were all but forgotten, scattered across the kitchen tiles. Gon wasn’t normally this messy in his own home, but his attention span, already challenged by their silly board game, caused him to lose his train of thought. He was distracted by the loose burgundy strands of Killua’s faded collar and picked at them without much consequence as Killua swatted at his hands, distracted by the loud movie roiling on the screen. Gon soon gave up his unnamed conquest and sighed as he settled a head full of spikes into his best friend’s lap, bringing a finger to his mouth to nibble on.

Killua stiffened immediately, unsure of what to make of the actions or the loud thrumming that traveled through his chest like hot wires, poked alive by some unattainable source of energy.His muscles glued into place, willing themselves to remain still. He took a moment to consider the boy, staring at a freckling shoulder, gifts from the sun that had been planted onto Gon’s skin in the late August sun. Killua was no idiot. He’d seen this before in movies and maybe trashy romance comics that Milluki kept amongst his stash of untouchables. But Gon was a boy, rough-edged with dirty fingernails. There were no bows in his hair, no lingering touches and coy smiles. This was fish catching, sloppy eating, sleep talking Gon laying in his lap on a regular Saturday.

And this isn’t to say that Killua hated this or didn’t not hate it, but really, what is there to make of such a simple gesture. He didn’t know because he didn’t know he was allowed this sort of thing, didn’t know he could be afforded such an effort. He nibbled at his lip trying to pull forth memories of what the objectively handsome protagonists might have done in this scenario and settled on resting a hand against the chaotic spikes sprouting from his thigh. Gon released a contented sigh, a tiny sound he often made before he drifted to sleep. That had to be good, right? Generally positive, anyway, as it meant, at the very least, that Gon wasn’t not comfortable. Or maybe he was just sleepy. So, Killua made the executive decision to move his hand, a whispered grazing that dragged his blunt fingernails through the thick locks.

He stopped his breath, listening, feeling for any sort of shift or negative reaction from Gon, poised to pull his hand away at a moment's notice. It was a hand conditioned for killing, a hand familiar with the stench of blood, the squelch of live tissue. His limb felt alien here, resting against his friend’s head, moving for the sake of moving, of touching, purposeless. These hands were hands that were hidden away, not the hands of some loving individual, intimately aware of the intricacies of romance, or loving. Yet, here he was, gently carding his fingers through the hair of his best friend as the sun painted the worn couch in golden hues rivaling those that lingered in the creases of Gon’s eyes, that made a home in the sharp bronze shoulders.

An hour passed before Killua was able to unfurl the tight cords of muscle pulling at his thighs, and he breathed deeply, taking in the soft snores of a sleeping Gon. And Killua wondered, quietly, if he could manage to give his hands new purpose. 

**Author's Note:**

> Wait, this is just fluff. *holding water gun* Always has been.
> 
> Just trying to fill in the gaps of their month spent on whale island. Also, the hands fit so well with the themes in Greed Island/ overall series and was totally an accident. ;-;
> 
> I might turn this into a series of drabbles, so I can get all of these headcanons out of my system.
> 
> Ohh, follow me on twitter if you wanna see me complain or share killugon art @toastedtofu_


End file.
